Dissonance
by Spicy-obsession
Summary: An AU drabble series following episode 26. Thirdperson present, Merylcentric, and all are character snapshots. Read and Review, I worked hard on this.
1. Beginning

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: Do not bother me about _Doors Will Not Reopen._ I have Writer's Block on that right now. Anyway, I've been working on this for **over a year**, adding, editing, tearing my hair out, etc. Remember _A Prelude_? Yeah, that one: it's the preview to this.

Behold, my drabble series in which Knives kills Vash in the final battle in the anime. The "chapters" will almost all be memories of Meryl. Plot is non-existent here; these are mainly character snapshots. I'm flexing my fingers!

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At this point, Meryl realizes that she will just have to go to sleep hungry again, and for some odd reason, it no longer bothers her. 

Earlier that day, she had done the rounds with Milly and Jake, footsteps shuffling as they walked in a neat row, down the endless tunnels. Jake's eyes darted around continuously, his pupils round and huge. Milly slightly lagged behind and clutched her stun gun tightly while smiling, and Meryl kicked at stray pebbles in her path, derringers bouncing against her body in rhythm.

"Milly, did you manage to find something for tonight?" she found herself asking. _Should I even bother?_

The smile slid off of her face. "There are enough for the children, but Sempai…"

Meryl waved her hand at Milly, noticing the dirt and filth collecting under her nails. "It's fine."

"At least they'll have something to eat," the brunette replied.

The petite woman nodded, and Jake coughed and stared straight ahead.

So here Meryl sits, watching scrawny little people stuff food into their mouths. Her stomach stirs, a longing to reach out and grab whatever is on the table. _Mine, you cannot have it_. But she suppresses her hunger, turns away, and wills herself to think about anything else. Milly is probably in their room already, which is shared by four other tenants; yes, the six of them squeeze into that hot, cramped room.

After dinner, Meryl wanders back through the dirty system of corridors (lit only by cheap lanterns), brushes her teeth in the communal bathroom, changes into an oversized T-shirt, and goes straight to bed. She might feel better in the morning. There is no point staying up.

Her roommates eventually file in; they complete their own nighttime ritual and lumber to bed. Someone turns the light off, shifts restlessly between the covers. Cough, cough, rustle, rustle, and then sleep.

"Meryl." A poor excuse for a whisper.

She does not bother trying to adjust to the dark and speaks out loud with her eyes closed. "What is it, Milly?"

"Good night." It is more of a question than a guarantee.

The dark-haired woman smiles grimly and turns on her side. "You too."

Still, they live with it.

And yet, she wonders how.

* * *

Okay, at this point everyone wants to go: Bzuh? But I have explanation for you so listen up. Knives has taken over after hysterically mourning over Vash's death, the plants are free, most of the humans are dead by now, but—! A small resistance lies underground, driven by people like Milly and Meryl and whoever. They scavenge for food, supplies, and the occasional weapon. Blah-blah-blah, use your imagination. I certainly did.Okay, now you can review. 


	2. Messenger

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: Meryl's childhood snapshot thingy. I took the liberties of doing whatever I wanted with it. Screw canon; Nightow never elaborated on _this_.

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_Meryl is nine years old, and her father is a plant technician who leads her by the hand towards one of the inner laboratories. Her palm sweaty in his, she watches with fleeting curiosity the other scientists and technicians running back and forth, feverishly typing away or repairing some machine. Every so often, someone will glance at the light coming off of the light bulb in the center. _

_Spying a co-worker gesturing for help, Father lets go of her hand, and she takes halting steps towards the glow. Meryl barely registers the faint hum beneath the floor before he stops her, kneeling down to meet her child-eyes. Uncomfortable, she turns away. _

_Pointing to the bulb, he says gently, "Look." _

_She looks, but squints at the brightness._

"_This is the reason we are living. This is why we have enough water and food everyday." His voice drops, becoming much more sober. "Never forget that, Meryl."_

_She nods because every nine year-old knows that it is the proper answer. "Okay. Can I touch her?"_

_The question catches him off-guard. "Wait—why do you say 'her'?"_

_Attention focused fully on the plant, Meryl sighs impatiently. "She has long hair. She's pretty too." Turning to look at him, she adds, "Duh."_

_Father stares for a moment and then shakes his head, smiling. "I guess you're right. Yes, you can go closer. Just be careful and don't break the glass."_

_But she is already at the bulb, running her fingers over the pulsating warmth and light of the surface. The plant inside shifts, and Meryl finds herself staring right at a pair of colorless eyes. _

"_Oh!" she cries. _

_He is instantly beside her, his attention also captured by the angel. "Beautiful, huh?"_

"_Yeah," Meryl says slowly. She turns to her father. "Why is she in there?"_

_His face takes on a look, either wrought with too much or not at all, and she keeps on staring at him until a co-worker saves them both. _

"_Stryfe, I got a question. How would you…"_

_He shakes his head (don't think about it don't think about it) and stands up, ruffling her hair. "Sorry, I'm needed again. Can you just play here for a few more minutes? I didn't mean to bring you here. We'll go somewhere else after another hour or so, okay?"_

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Review, dammit. 


	3. Augusta

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: Need I explain anything here? Straight from the anime, guys.

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_Is this what she imagined it would be like? Her gaze flies in every direction, a desolate landscape meeting her at every angle. She knows this is what he warned her about; Meryl is no fool. _I came anyway_, she realizes,_ I came anyway. 

"_Senpai."_

_Calmly, she turns around to find Milly with a steel grip on her hand. "We have to go."_

But..._ Meryl sees the feathers falling from the sky like rain and turns away from Augusta, a grimace on her face._ Don't look back. Don't run back. Don't regret this, Meryl. _Her jaw tightens. _I'll find you.

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Review, dammit. 


	4. Quake

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: So, he has destroyed Demitirihi, and Meryl is sitting around a pile of rubble. What is she going to do? I wonder

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… 

_The first thing she hears is…nothing. Everything is muted, and that eerie ringing whines loudly in her ears._

_She rubs her eyes blearily. _Where am I?

"_Look at me."_

_Meryl cannot look up, not even if she wants to; her foot is badly sprained, and there is a nasty scrape on her shoulder from where something sharp has ripped through her blouse. She looks around, her vision spinning. _

"_Spider," he hisses, "that was not a request."_

_Red miasma swirls in front of her eyes, and she struggles to sit up, one hand gripping her injured shoulder, the other planted firmly on the ground. More dust immediately rushes up her nails that are already dirty to begin with. Meryl defiantly glares at him as his eyes narrow into slits._

"_Where's Milly?" Her voice cracks at the name, and he smiles without showing any teeth._

"_There were so many; the entire town crawled with vermin," he answered with a smooth baritone that sends shudders up her spine. "What purpose was there to count how many I had killed? It'd be like trying to number the hairs on your filthy head. Perhaps she managed to escape, or maybe, she's lying dead underneath a pile of rubble somewhere." The corners of his mouth lift slightly. "Either way, all of you have the same fate."_

_Meryl's eyes widen in rage and helplessness. "You…you bastard…" _Milly, where are you?

"_Quiet, human," he smoothly interrupts, lips curling at the word as if it were cursed. "Don't foul up the air with your breath, wasting words like my brother."_

_He was forgotten the moment her house was disintegrated. "Vash," she gasps and grits her teeth. "What did you do to him?" _

_His eyes glaze over for a brief moment before that undeniable hatred surges back up; she unconsciously recoils. "It took him long enough, but he finally saw the error of his ways and left your pathetic race."_

_Meryl flinches, and her fingers dig into the dirt_. I saw it coming. I knew it was coming. And I waited this whole time._ Amidst her inner conflict, she notices him giving her a look reminiscent of sympathy. "I still cannot comprehend how he managed to tolerate your countless deficiencies. None of you are even fit enough to touch him."_

_The sting in her shoulder intensifies, and Meryl winces in pain. "I…was good enough…" _I was, otherwise…otherwise—

_There is a blur, and he yanks her to her feet, his hand gripping the front of her shirt; the murderous glare on his face has at last surfaced completely. _

"_Don't you ever contradict me," he snaps, "No one was good enough for him; only I was. And now, he will never see you hideous animals again."_

_Meryl's face blanches, and she puts her hands over his, fingernails digging into his luminous skin. "He's…dead…?" _

_He drops her as if she is on fire, and Meryl cries out when she hits the ground. "It was you, all you," he snarls, and she lies on the soil, not caring what will happen. Her body aches, and the sun is unbearably hot. _Why the hell should I care?

"_Disgusting waste of flesh," he says, each word erratically punctuated, "There is no place for your kind here."_

_He draws out his gun, deadly and black, and aims at her head; his hand imperceptibly shakes. Click—the safety is pulled back. The whole thing feels surreal, suspended. And then…_

"_I'll never have to look at the cause of my brother's death again."_

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Review, dammit.


	5. Love

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: This is not the past; this is taking place right now, in the dead of night while almost everyone is asleep. Meryl and Milly really need this moment alone.

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"_Where do you think he is, Sempai?" she asks, her voice small and childlike._

_Meryl glances at her because this is the first time that they have ever wondered out loud together, and she turns away, black hair covering her eyes. "I don't know, Milly."_

"_He's been gone for such a long time," she says, "so long that it's possible he could very well have—" And here Milly breaks off, looking terrified. _

"_Are you going to finish it." It is not a question. New wrinkles appear around the corners of Meryl's eyes, and they are not from smiling. _

_Shaking her head, Milly licks her lips, tasting dry air. "I wonder if he misses us or not."_

_Meryl utters a noncommittal noise._

_A thought crosses her friend's face, and she knits her eyebrows into one worry line. "I hope…that he'll come back."_

_She scoffs lightly; the dust in front of her face whirls round and round. "What good will it do?" Meryl tucks a lock of hair behind an ear and looks at Milly again. "Has he ever been truly reliable?"_

"_But we need him now." I _need him now.

"_We have other things to worry about," Meryl deadpans. "There's nothing more he can do."_

_Her words are soft and yet assuming, judging. "Don't be like that, Sempai. If you give up on him…"_

…what will happen?_ Meryl's shoulders are sharp angles silhouetted against the moon, and something distantly related to frustration appears on her worn cheeks, her dusty forehead. "There's nothing to give up. There was never anything to give up in the first place."_

There was nothing, nothing but the feel of his rough jacket and the pieces of a broken coffee mug.

Home. I want to go home.

_There is a long pause, and the brunette quietly answers, "If you're only bitter because you feel that it's an obligation, then don't bother standing out here."_

_Meryl does not say anything._

"_And no, I'm not waiting anymore," Milly continues. "He is already here."_

_The corners of Meryl's mouth curve up in a sweet grimace. "You're right. He's everywhere; every time I see our hungry kids, every time I have that nightmare, and every time I realize that I have another day—God, just one more day—to get through—he's there. He's here, he's there, and-and I was always_ fucking waiting_!"_

_Meryl shuts up abruptly and closes her eyes, breathing rapidly through her nose. Biting her lip, Milly touches her friend's arm. "That's not true," she whispers._

_In a low, feminine voice, she growls. "I got tired of waiting. I got tired of waking up at the same time every single goddamn morning, go to work, buy groceries, go home, eat, and sleep. I got tired of donuts. Got tired of Dimitirihi." _Got tired of seeing red everywhere

_With a sigh, Milly hugs her and lets go quickly. "I love you, Sempai."_

"_Damn it."_

"_But," her friend adds, looking at her like no one else exists, "you can be so selfish sometimes, thinking about him like that." She finishes her comment with a light sigh._

"_He should have come back," Meryl snaps abruptly._

_Milly blinks. "What?"_

"_Like he said he would."_

"_Oh Meryl, he-"_

"_-wasn't worth my time. I'm glad we're alone."_

"_Don't talk about him like he's already gone," Milly scolds. "We're not sure if he's even dead or n-"_

_"He's dead. Knives killed him," Meryl says flatly. "It wasn't going to turn out fine anyway."_

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Review, dammit. 


	6. Selfish

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: Like "A Prelude," this conversation was made up from my hopeful, dreamy imagination and inserted somewhere…uh…well how about the night before he leaves the two girls to fight Knives? Anyway, this thing is pure dialogue; I did that on purpose. Hope you all appreciate it. Oh yeah, this conversation does not take place before the Augusta incident.

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"_This is it then."_

"_Yes. I have to go."_

"_What excuse do you have?"_

"…_It wouldn't help if I said sorry, would it?"_

"_It would have a few months ago."_

"_You knew that I would have to leave."_

"_That's not the point."_

"_I don't have any other choice."_

"_You are so selfish sometimes. Do you know? Do You Know That?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Christ, why didn't you tell us sooner?"_

"_I couldn't. You weren't ready."_

"_You don't know that."_

"_I didn't want you to get involved."_

"_I would have anyway."_

"_You could've been safe."_

"…_idiot."_

"_Since the day you met me."_

"_Don't start."_

"_You can't stay here."_

"_Don't do this to us."_

"_I have to leave."_

"…_go ahead. No one's here to stop you."_

"_You know what could happen, don't you?"_

"_Yes."_

"_It's dangerous. I-I won't be myself."_

"_You haven't changed at all."_

"_You don't know what we're capable of doing. I'll-"_

"_You won't."_

"_It won't be safe here anymore."_

"_I'm staying, end of story."_

"_Dammit, listen to me; there are things you don't know-"_

"_And I don't want to."_

"_You'll hate me in the end."_

"_That was never an option."_

"…_Meryl. You need to leave."_

_"No, Vash. I don't."_

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Review, dammit. 


	7. Flawed

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: Gee whiz, talk about depressing here. I don't have to explain all of these drabbles on every installment, now do I?

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He is beautiful. 

In spite of the blood, in spite of the mind-blowing pain, in spite of it all, she sees his lovely, haunting face—white and luminous—looking at her. Glaring at her. She feels the caked dirt on her clothes increase exponentially; her body involuntarily shudders, as if aware of its own corruption. Never has she felt so self-conscious in front of anyone, never.

And it is only when she truly sees him for the first time, sees him walk out of the blinding light, that the realization hits her—the inferiority of her species lay bare before...before…an angel. Meryl shivers as though she is naked, exposing her nasty, grimy skin to the world. Adrenaline now running haywire, the stifling heat sears her skin, but she will not fucking move (frozen), will not run away (cannot run away), will not defend herself (oh but how can she?).

What sins do you have, human? Let's start from day one: you were born. Should I bother to list them all?

And she's ridiculously flawed and says hurtful things and never wakes up early enough on weekdays but-

Take Milly and run. Take Milly and run. Take Milly and run, goddammit. It doesn't matter what he thinks, he's just as bad as we are, I can't and won't think about this no time no time—

_He walks towards them slowly, his footsteps grinding into the dirt (a scratching sound). There are feathers hovering, quivering around him—his living halo and for a moment, Meryl swears she hears voices. Sees faces. Relives memories._

"_Mom, mom, she smiled at me. She's so pretty, why won't she come out? Can she come out?"_

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Review, dammit. 


	8. Tribute

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: For once, Meryl shows her true feelings while giving Vash's eulogy. Enjoy.

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_What am I doing up here?_

_Everyone stares at me and expects too much and I don't know what to say; this funeral is so last minute; Milly literally begged me to stand here and say something _anything_ about his life, his character, yah-dah and so on, but you know what? I got nothin'. Absolutely nothing, because I know what this teary-eyed crowd wants to hear, what those poor children and tired mothers and jaded men want to believe in, want to hope in, and it's that he was a hero: a swash-buckling, invincible hero who had something to prove and a heart of gold that was big enough to include everyone as _family.

_An everyman. _

_A savior. _

_A tragedy. _

_It's not true. I don't know how to convince all of you that none of those things you've heard are true. Oh don't listen to Milly; she couldn't bear to tell you what she _really_ thinks and don't ask me either because I'd clam up or walk away like the bitch I've become. And oh look at you people, your faces lighting up as I ramble right now, words tumbling spilling spewing out of my mouth, eyes glittering with salty pre-tears, and my narrow shoulders quaking. It's perfect; my disguise is perfect. I'm on autopilot right now and I feel sorry—not just for you all, but for me too. I feel sorry for everything. _

_I didn't mean for this to happen. _

_And you know, that's the same thing he said right before he left; how ironic is that? There he went, leaving again. And again. And _again_. And stupid idiot that I was, I ran after him and of course he let me find him. I always knew it was on purpose. Pissed me off, that I couldn't even catch someone as absent-minded as him and then when I lost his trail I wound up sitting on a park bench during midday, twiddling my thumbs and waiting. Again. I was waiting. I was running. And suddenly the pattern fell apart because he couldn't afford to indulge me anymore._

_I miss him. _

_And—well fuck, I'm about to cry. I can already feel the burning spots on my cheeks and the lump in my throat. I'm thisclose from losing it. In front of all these people, ha. Can I still continue? Can I still do this without a red nose and puffy eyes? Do they expect me to sob right here? Do I honestly look that weak? No way, no way. I'm not crying unless I tell them the whole truth._

"He was kind. He was loving and selfish. He helped everyone out whenever he could, even if he wasn't needed at times. He had a beautiful smile that hid everything underneath and a pair of sad, sad eyes. You felt safe. You felt warm around him."

_And you thought that you and him—no. No, of course not. He couldn't have. Not ever. There was a message he radiated to anyone who tried to be his best friend, his confidante, his something-more-than-the-others._

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Review, dammit. 


	9. Resolve

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: Sometimes I want to scream on those crappy sort of days. Meryl has clearly reached her limit.

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_The water could have had more time to boil. _

_Wiping her forehead, Meryl throws together scanty vegetable soup with bread, tossing bowls and utensils to whoever can catch them. The laundry pile grows higher, if possible: a rising avalanche waiting to happen. Among the slurps and spoon clanging, an infant cries; Meryl swipes the baby up and cradles the small body. She does not even know its name. Its face crumples unexpectedly, the wails beginning anew, and she tiredly coos and murmurs for a few more minutes until it quiets down again. _

_A little girl drops her spoon and promptly begins to wail because she knows that it is so very difficult to replace anything nowadays. Meryl calmly sets the baby down in its highchair, picks the spoon off of the floor, and rubs it furiously with the hem of her blouse, but the spoon is now dirty. Forever and always. And God, she had just wiped everything clean the other day in an effort to retain whatever normalcy she has left of her life. __**Why is the damn spoon dirty again?**_

_It is a game. Everyone—the children, the men, the women, _him_—wants to see how long they can keep pushing, keep wailing, keep fighting, keep goddamn _hoping_ until. She. Cracks. _

_Meryl, did you collect enough food for tomorrow? Meryl, is it your turn to patrol with Jake tonight? Meryl, one of the kids lost her blanket; she wants to know if you can give her yours? Meryl, you look exhausted; did you get enough sleep this week? Meryl. Meryl. _Meryl.

_Air. She needs to be outside _right now_. And then Meryl is outside, breathing hard through her nose; the parched air stings her nostrils, and something. Just. Gives. Oh, how it is a relief that no one is watching her harsh sobs and curling hands; the release comes without warning. She is drowning in salt, not tears, because the only thing that can come forth from her dry, dusty eyes and this dry, dusty world is what is left behind when saltwater evaporates instantly, when this insufferable _heat_ sucks up any soothing feeling produced. _

_And yet it is a beautiful, breathless feeling._

_As the gates break open, a million questions flood her consciousness, threatening to overwhelm her emotional equilibrium._ What if the children can't eat? What if we run out of supplies? What if he kills us all? Or worse, what if I give up? I hate this, so much.

Look at what you've done.

_And then it is over. Meryl opens her eyes again; they are red and puffy, but dry nonetheless. There is no point in crying about it. She must move on. _

_And she wipes her face and returns to the kitchen wearing a tired smile, like nothing has ever happened. Milly happens to catch Meryl at the doorway, but the petite woman shakes her head—I'm fine. _

_She has moved on. _

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Review, dammit.


	10. Live

Disclaimer: Don't own Trigun.

A/N: This is it. The last of the drabbles. Hope you all enjoyed reading my mumbo-jumbo.

* * *

Wake.

Eyes wide open.

Meryl shifts uncomfortably and pushes the hair back from her head. She breathes softly, listening to the anxious sleep-noises her roommates make. After staring up at the ceiling—_can you really call it a ceiling?—_she sits up and gasps suddenly at the cold air rushing up her back. Somewhere in the night, an airship makes her stately way across the black sky, the roar from her celestial engines shaking the room.

Meryl closes her eyes again, face in her hands.

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Review, dammit.


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